


memories, they are all we have left

by chxrylblossom



Series: i’m standing where the lightning strikes, i know this doesn’t happen twice [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, deals with fred’s death, focused on cheryl and toni, takes place amidst 4x01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:36:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chxrylblossom/pseuds/chxrylblossom
Summary: fred andrews died, and riverdale will never be the same.





	memories, they are all we have left

**Author's Note:**

> i watched 4x01 today. i think it was very tastefully done, and i can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for the cast & crew to film. 
> 
> i wanted to tell what i imagine cheryl/toni’s sides of things to be.
> 
> rest in peace, luke, and happy birthday angel.

Cheryl’s in the makeshift nursery with Juniper and Dagwood when she gets the call. 

There are building blocks and stuffed animals scattered all over the floor, Dagwood is sitting in her lap and Juniper is lying on a mat on the floor, little pudgy hands raised in the air as Cheryl pretends to make her favourite bear fly around above her head. Gargles of happiness are escaping her lips every now and then, accompanied by irritated grunts every time Dagwood excitedly reaches out to try and grab the bear but misses, and ends up whacking her in the face. 

She’s had an irritating morning, and spending time with Jason, or Toni, and  _ especially  _ the babies always serves to cheer her up significantly. And that’s why she doesn’t really pay much attention when her phone buzzes at her side. She figures it’s probably one of the scooby gang (most likely Veronica) messaging to chastise her on her harsh confrontation outside Pop’s, and she’s not in the mood. 

The fourth of July never has been and never  _ will  _ be a day of celebration for her. Nor should it be for the rest of the town. 

She’s just about to head downstairs to make some lunch for the babies, most likely consisting of apple slices and unappealing mushy bananas that Toni - for whatever  _ ungodly  _ reason - has begun snacking on, too, whenever she’s hungry, but then her phone begins to ring. It’s her  _ Katy Perry  _ ringtone, so Cheryl knows right away that the only person it’s going to be is her girlfriend. 

Annoyance ceasing instantly, she picks up the phone, ignoring how Dagwood reaches out for it eagerly (they’re at that stage, currently, where grabbing everything in sight is fun, including hair and earrings which, well -  _ ouch _ ). 

“Hi, my love,” she answers, a smile overtaking her features that a Juniper quickly mimicks, prompting Cheryl to reach down and and absent-mindedly tickle her tummy. 

“Cheryl.” Instantly, Cheryl knows that something is wrong. Toni’s voice only ever takes on that tone of solemnity when it’s bad news, and additionally Cheryl thinks that the extra raspiness of her voice could be a result of crying. Concern twists her stomach into a tight knot. 

“Toni, are you okay?” 

Her question precedes a short silence on the other end of the line that has the painful knot in Cheryl’s stomach pulling so tight she briefly entertains the idea that she may implode. She knows she worries too much about Toni, her thoughts are plagued with worst case scenarios every time she sees an unexplained tear in her girlfriend’s honey brown eyes, but it’s definitely not unfounded after her years of experience in losing those she loves the most. 

So, Toni’s soft reply of, “I’m okay,” lessens her anxiety just a little, but the strained nature of her voice and waver in her words doesn’t allow for it to dissipate all together. “Baby, are you sitting down?”

“Pardon?”

“Are you sitting down? I… I have bad news.”

And just like that, the agonising knot of worry is back. She finds herself holding Dagwood so tightly that she isn’t surprised when he paws at her neck and gurgles unhappily. “Yes, I’m sitting down,” she responds, her own voice stoic, the sentence striking familiar painful chords within her. So, she rests her cheek lightly atop Dagwood’s head, allowing herself to feel comforted - just barely - by the familiar tickle of his strawberry blonde curls. 

Drawing in an audibly shaky breath, Toni begins to speak again. But this time, the words don’t seem to quite make any sense at first. 

“Fred Andrews is dead.”

Cheryl can’t quite fathom the magnitude of the reality behind Toni’s words. For someone who’s experienced a great deal of loss in her life, she finds death incredibly hard to deal with. And this won’t quite line up in her mind.

It doesn’t quite make sense that the man who is so often regarded as the heart and soul of Riverdale, so commonly spoken about as the most reliable and kind man in town… could be  _ gone. _ It doesn’t seem quite real that the same man who used to make five year old Archie Andrews sit with him on the little brick wall outside the front of kindergarten, waiting with Cheryl and Jason when their parents forgot to pick them up, his eyes kind and his words even kinder… he’s  _ gone _ . It doesn’t quite make sense that this is the very man whose hospital bed she visited after he was targeted by the ever vengeful Black Hood, the same  _ kind _ man whom she gave the kiss of life to… It doesn’t quite equate that the same man who raised the kind-hearted, selfless son who punched through a river of ice to save her life, is no longer  _ alive _ . 

There’s no way that a boy with as good of a heart as Archie Andrews - sweet, naïve, well-meaning Archie - could ever do anything to warrant deserving the painful, and tragic loss of his father. The thought alone makes the left side of her chest ache with a familiar empathy. 

Yet, the entirety of the situation still feels dizzyingly unreal. 

So much so that she feels her grip on Dagwood slowly loosening, enough that she makes a hasty effort to plop him down on the carpet before she accidentally drops him all together. He lets out a wail in protest, but she can barely pay any attention to it. 

“I-I… I’m sorry, what?” she asks, simply because she can’t be certain that she heard correctly. It could always be that the long-time coming deterioration of her mental health has finally arrived, and is commencing with audio hallucinations at the worst possible moment in time. 

“He was in a car accident last night. Apparently it was a hit and run? I… I just saw Jug at Pop’s. They’re all really broken up about it, I think everyone is,” Toni continues, her own voice quivering slightly with impending tears, and Cheryl knows it probably hits a little too close to home for her girlfriend given the nature of her own parents’ passing. 

“Toni, where are you?” she finally manages to ask, mustering all the strength she has right now to hold back her tears and enunciate clearly. “Do you need me to pick you up?”

A sharp swallow and a sniffle succeeds the question, and in her mind’s eye Cheryl can envision the action. “No, no, I… I’m almost home? I just…” she falls quiet for a moment, and Cheryl’s thoughts begin to flood in, containing mostly an onslaught of fury towards the universe and all greater powers for inflicting this  _ pain  _ upon Archie Andrews and his mother - upon a family who are the quintessential heart and soul of the town, perhaps more than any other. 

“Fred Andrews was such a good man. He opened up his home to the Serpents when we had nowhere else to go, you know? He… God, he raised Archie, who saved your  _ life _ . I can’t think where I’d be without you, babe, and you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them, so I…” Toni stops, her breathing so shaky and unsteady that Cheryl begins to worry more. “He pulled over to help out a woman whose car had broken down. I guess they didn’t see the speeding car approaching in time, for him to get them  _ both  _ out the way, so he… god, he died a hero too, you know?”

“He’s always been like that, a hero. He’s always  _ helped  _ people.”

Cheryl hears Toni’s key in the front door, but she still doesn’t hang up until her figure appears in the nursery room doorway. 

Rising to her feet, Cheryl wastes no time in meeting her girlfriend halfway to wrapping one another in a tight, all-encompassing hug. Toni nestles beneath Cheryl’s chin, and Cheryl holds her tighter than she thought was possible without causing pain, but if anything, Toni seems to only want to be closer. 

“It’s not fair,” Cheryl murmurs quietly, finally, wild strands of pink hair tickling her lips and tears swelling in her eyes. “It’s unfair, Toni.”

“I know, baby.”

“Fred Andrews  _ was  _ Riverdale,” Cheryl adds quietly, her voice dipping with emotion. Emotion for Fred, emotion for Archie and for Mary, emotion for her  _ own  _ loss… “He was a father to anyone who needed one. Always. He was so kind and forgiving, Toni. He was the  _ soul  _ of our town.”

“I know,” Toni mumbles again, and Cheryl realises they’re the only words that make sense to utter right now. The only acceptable words to respond with, because Toni  _ does  _ know; they all do. Everyone knows, everyone  _ feels  _ or  _ will feel _ exactly this way at hearing about the loss of the man who quite literally built Riverdale with his bare hands, and kept it alive with the infinite kindness of his heart. 

Grief is their most painful, twisting emotion, and the only comfort is the unity that can be found in it. 

Fred Andrews will always  _ be  _ a part of Riverdale, the glue that holds the town together, and whether he’s here to enforce that or not, his memory and his legacy  **will** be kept alive. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading.


End file.
